


Panic! At the Disco

by matimae



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Airplanes, Drug Use, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Hostage Situations, I will whump Wesley is no one else will, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matimae/pseuds/matimae
Summary: Wesley and Angela are finally getting away. Though it seems you can never be far enough away from crime and chaos.
Relationships: Wesley Evers/Angela Lopez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Panic! At the Disco

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober no.18 (panic attacks)

Every time Wesley stole a glance down at Angela’s hand he couldn’t help but smile seeing the engagement ring that rested snug against her finger. He also felt an enormous amount of relief that she even said yes, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her as much as he wanted to spend his with her.

  
  


“You ready?” hummed Angela as she readjusted her carry-on strap while they waited in line at the airport.

  
  


“You kidding?” Wesley’s face crinkled into a smile as he pulled her into an embrace. “I’m _so_ ready. This is just what we need! 5 days of bliss with my fiance...” 

  
  


Angela laughed at the way he drew out the word ‘fiance’.

  
  


The monotone call of the speakers interrupted them by alerting everyone to the plane loading. The happy couple began to filter on with the rest of the crowd onto the plane. 

  
  


Although Wesley’s mother insisted they ride first class- they both agreed they’d rather spend their money on their vacation rather than just getting there.

  
  


Settled into the aisle seat next to his fiance Wesley took a deep breath. This was going to be great. He set his carry on bag on his lap and started to dig through the front pocket until he found his bottle of benzodiazepines. He could feel Angela’s eyes on him, watching him closely. He knew she was still nervous, but he promised to be careful. And besides, he just needed a few for the plane ride anyway. Turbulence was something he typically tried to generally avoid.

  
  


“Hey, it’s okay. Planes gonna land just fine, and then it’s just a relaxing trip for us. Okay?” she asked, trying her best to reassure him.

  
  


“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

  
  


Angela reaches out and squeezes his hand as the plane begins its take-off.

  
  


Her warm hand resting in his, the plane now secure in the air, and the 0.5mg of Xanax finally kicking in, Wesley fell into a comfortable rhythm. His eyelids began to droop and although a part of him wanted to stay alert, he succumbed to the sleep that had been calling his name.

  
  


…

  
  


Wesley stirs only at a bit of turbulence, his eyes flutter open, the sleepy haze filling his mind preventing him from taking in much besides the fact that Angela’s hand was still wrapped around him- her grip tighter than before.

  
  


“Hey, baby,” he whispered to her, his voice still half asleep.

  
  


Angela looked from the aisle to Wesley, and he noticed the crease of worry across her forehead. “Hey. Glad you’re awake.”

  
  


“You okay?” he brushed his thumb against her hand. “you seem tense.”

  
  


She sighed. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing. A guy a few rows back had been getting into with a stewardess earlier, he seems to be calmer now, but you know how fast these things go.”

  
  


Wesley looked to where Angela’s gaze had been fixed, across the aisle from them 3 rows back sat a man with his head in his hands, his knees bobbed up and down, unable to stop jittering for a moment.

  
  


Wesley could see why Angela could be concerned. By the looks of him, he was borderline unhinged, and that was him sitting quietly.

  
  


“Think he’s on something?”  
  
  


Angela shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Be difficult to get through security, but it would explain his demeanor. And why he gets so angry when anyone stops by. Like he feels threatened.” the Detective sighed. “but then again it could be nothing. Maybe he just doesn’t like plane rides.”

  
  


Wesley nodded, _that_ he could relate to.

  
  


He had almost forgotten about the figgity man behind him until a shout was heard across the whole plane.

  
  


“I’m not moving!” the man hollered. “You’ve got no authority over me! I’m an American citizen!”

  
  


“Sir I am just asking you to follow me to answer a couple of security questions.” insisted the flight attendant.

  
  


Another reason Wesley didn’t care to have that job.

  
  


“Then ask me here!” the man shouted, jumping from his seat.

  
  


The stewardess stepped back, started at the sudden movement. Wesley, Angela, and the surrounding rows were now fully entrapped by the scene that was unfolding.

  
  


Angela was just about ready to spring out of her seat to help, but Wesley insisted that she stay.

“Nothing's happened yet- and you’re off duty. Let the Air Marshal deal with this one.”

  
  


“If there _even_ _is_ an Air Marshal on the flight!” she whispers.

  
  


They were all to discover that there was indeed an Air Marshal on the flight. And in hindsight…Wesley wishes that there hadn’t been.

  
  


“Sir, I need you to calm down.” the attendant said, her voice firm but Wesley could see the panic behind her eyes.

  
  


“Attention, I am the U.S. Air Marshal. Sir, I need you to sit back down in your seat.” another man stood up, revealing his identity and flashing his badge. “You need to calm down before this becomes a situation. Sir- what’s your name?”  
  
  


“A situation? You’re….you’re a Marshal?” the man twisted his head between the now crowd of people around him. “So am I under arrest? For what?!” he shouts again, only becoming more aggravated.

  
  


The Marshal put his hands out in front of him, showing that he wasn’t going to shoot. “You’re not under arrest. You just need to follow me, and answer some questions.”

  
  


The personal were trained to be on the lookout for any suspicious behavior, and the Marshal wasn’t convinced that the man in front of him wasn’t high out of his mind.

  
  


Dangerously reckless is what he was for certain, though.

  
  


“I’m not going anywhere!” he screams and lunges towards the Marshal- an unhinged look behind his eyes.

  
  


The two fall to the ground and screams erupt from throughout the plane. Wesley’s arm instinctive flies out over Angela’s seat to protect her- her arm already over him, but the two fighting were now on the opposite side of the plane.

  
  


“It’s a hijack!” somebody screamed, which left the crowd in an uproar.

  
  


“Everybody, stay calm! Flipping out won’t help anything.” Angela said over the frightened passengers.

  
  


All eyes were on the Marshal as he pushed the man off of him. He huffed as he blew a stray hair out of his eyes. “It’s okay everyone, everything’s under control-”

  
  


The Marshal was interrupted with a crack, and his knees buckled underneath him as he collapsed onto the aisle.

  
  


Now everyone was screaming.

  
  


The man had knocked him out from behind. Breathing heavily he dropped down and grabbed the gun off of the Marshal, unclipping it from his belt, the man straightened.

  
  


_Well, shit_. This was definitely an everyone problem now.

  
  


The flight attendant had left a while ago, Wesley prayed to tell the Pilot to land as fast as possible. All the other attendants had taken a seat- no one moved.

  
  


It was like no one breathed.

  
  


The man paced down the too small aisle, gun in hand, sweat dripping from every orifice. “I’m not going anywhere! I- I just need _everybody_ to back up! And give me some space!”

  
  


Pacing down the aisle the man stopped inches from Wesley and Angela. For once he was glad that he didn’t have the window seat, at least he felt like he could be a barrier between him and his fiance.

  
  


Wesley’s breath hitched as the man paused directly next to him. The only comfort he found in Angela’s hand beside him.

  
  


The gun-wielding man was losing his grip on everything, his twitch had become severely worse and with a loaded gun in hand- Wesley shuddered to think what might come.

  
  


Grunting from the other side of the plane alerted the passengers that the Marshal had awoken. Stabilizing himself against nearby seats he made his way closer to the man.

  
  


“Just…put the weapon down, sir,” he said- hands held in front of him.

  
  


“No! No, I can’t- I have to-” the man spun around, searching for a way out.

  
  


To Wesley’s horror, he reaches down and yanks him from the seat, jutting the gun into his side.

  
  


“You don’t come any closer!” he shouts at the Marshal, “I’ve got a whole plane of hostages...and...and...I swear, I’ll _blow_ _his guts out_!”

  
  


Wesley can’t feel his legs. A tingling sensation ran through his spine to his fingertips, all of the air was sucked out of the room and Wesley couldn’t open his mouth to try to breathe.

  
  


The world was going blurry, he couldn’t even think straight enough to see 2 feet in front of him.

  
  


It was an all too, uncomfortable and yet unfortunately familiar, feeling of an incoming panic attack- and in the midst of circumstances made sense, though Wesley couldn’t imagine worse timing.

He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. What did his counselor say? 3 in, hold 4, 3 out? Or was it 4 in?

The man moved down the aisle, taking Wesley with him. The weight of the gun against his side never leaving him.

Wesley squeezed his eyes shut- flashes of when he was stabbed playing like a stuck film reel on his mind, and he just couldn’t turn them off.

He blinked past his now sweat-soaked face, trying to ground himself in the present.

“Wesley, baby, just...relax.” Tears were brimming Angela’s eyes as she fought against herself to stay in her seat, just watching helplessly as the scene unfolded in front of her. It killed her not to do anything- to feel so useless.

Wesley swallows, his only solace was at least he could see Angela. At least it wasn’t her in his place.

The man pressed the gun further into his abdomen, mimicking the knife wound he got that day he almost died. Is this going to be the time he actually dies?

Wesley closed his eyes.

No. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have an episode, not now.

He felt his throat begin to close, and his shrunken pupils found Angela’s, searching for safety in her sight.

“I can’t breathe,” he said in a muted panic, trying his best not to set off the man who was a trigger-finger away from ending his life.

“I know- I know, just, just try for me. Okay? In? Out.” Angela rehearsed, desperate to calm her fiance down. She could see the look of desperation in his eyes.

A tear ran down Wesley’s cheek.

He couldn’t do anything. He was locked in place and had no say about it.

The man backs up with Wesley, “Nobody comes any closer! I swear!”

With all his focus on maneuvering Wesley and the gun up and down the small plane aisle, the man wasn’t centered and tripped against the exposed bag of a passenger.

He stumbles for just a moment- but it’s enough of an opening for the Marshal to take his chance, tackling the man while he’s distracted.

Angela jumped to her feet, her heart caught in her throat.

She was leaving her row to join the fight and get back her fiance when she heard the shot.

Dread spread through her like poison.

She stumbled against herself running towards the commotion.

The entire plane was in an uproar- everyone had heard the gunshot but nobody knew what had happened.

“Wesley? Wesley!” she called, grabbing onto the lawyer, pulling him closer to her. He was swaying in place, she pulled him in tight and swore to herself to never let him go.

Pulling away from the embrace, she noticed a stain on his shoulder, growing bigger with every second.

“Wait- Wesley, are you hit?” she asked in disbelief.

He looked down, slightly oblivious. “I- I don’t know.”

Angela noticed just how pale he had become. She gingerly reached out and moved his jacket. Sure enough, there was a bullet hole waiting underneath. It had lodged itself in Wesley’s shoulder during the furor.

“Shit! Wesley!” Angela exclaimed, helping him to a seated position on the floor.

The Marshal was walking back towards them now- cuffs secure on the man and gun clipped in the proper holster.

" _Someone_ really didn't want me finding his stash on him." the Marshal gestured at the man and a small baggie of what Angela could only assume was what he was hopped up on. Closer now the Marshal saw the blood on Wesley.

“Is he okay?”

Angela looked up to him- tear streaks staining her face. “He’s been shot. He needs a doctor. Is there a doctor on this plane?!” she hollered.

The Marshal took off his jacket and gave it to Angela to press onto the wound.

“It’s gonna be just fine- keep this on him to stop the bleeding,” he instructed.

“LAPD. I know how to handle a gunshot wound-” Angela said with a grimace. “What _I need to know_ is if there’s a doctor on board, and how close we are to landing- ‘cause he’s losing a lot of blood.”

Angela didn’t mean to snap at anybody, she just couldn’t believe this was the second time she held Wesley bleeding out in her arms.

The Marshal resigned himself to ask any passengers if they had medical training, and made sure the pilot was made aware of the urgency of landing.

She continued to press the overcoat against his shoulder- willing the blood to _just stay in there._

“Wesley, baby, stay with me,” she begged, thankful for every moment that he stayed conscious.

Despite the bullet wound, and his blood staining the carpet- that Wesley couldn’t help but think about how long it would take to get out, Wesley no longer felt that panic.

Maybe it was because he had Angela holding him close.

"I'm okay. I have you," he said, his voice weaker than it was in his head. "Can't say this trip did much for my anxiety over plane rides, though."

Wesley began to laugh which turned into a cough.

Angela huffed. "Yeah. Next time we're taking the train. Save your strength, okay. Plane's gonna land soon, and you're going to get all the help you need."

"I love you."

She looked down at him, a shade greyer than before. "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> ~thanks for reading!! <3
> 
> also the ending was super fast so I may come back to this one and add a chapter in the future? so stay tuned 🤞


End file.
